


Blissful Reunion

by ufp13



Category: Sneakers (1992)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-06
Updated: 2008-07-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 05:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ufp13/pseuds/ufp13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>missing scene after she cleans him up in the kitchen. pure smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blissful Reunion

After having delivered his message, he hung up, still not taking his eyes from her. She stared back, still in the state of convincing herself that he was really there, really alive, and then, it didn't matter who made the first move, she was in his arms again.

A feeling of warmth and, ironic as it sounded, security, floated through her. This was why she had agreed to spend an evening with him in the first place; despite her words to the contrary, she couldn't deny him.

She clung to him in an embrace, so lost in thoughts from the sensation that she didn't notice he had steered them from the kitchen to the living room until her legs bumped against the couch.

Without a word, she slipped her hands under his coat and the material off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor as it pleased; then she sat down on one corner of the couch and turned toward him, who had followed suit, taking his place ten inches from her, facing her.

Their glances met again in silent but agile communication, yet, it wasn't enough. Not now. She needed him to talk, he needed to hear her.

"What now, Bishop? What are you - what are we - doing now?"

The man who always had an answer, who knew a way out of every difficult and dangerous situation, was at a loss for words in the face of such helplessly pleading eyes and the nuance of fear in the voice of the woman who still held his heart; the woman who had faced countless rivals, enemies, with him was obviously overwhelmed by her emotions - perhaps for the first time since he knew her, perhaps not, and this was just the first time he was a witness to it. The last thought made his heart ache even more than it already did for he hadn't wanted to cause her pain - again.

Nonetheless, he couldn't forget how good she had felt in his arms just a few minutes ago, like she belonged there, and where he was concerned she did.

It had broken his heart to let her go all that time ago, had broken his heart to see hers breaking but knowing that she made the right decision. Yet, here they were again: face-to-face, emotions very near right under the surface, threatening to overflow.

The rest of the group had never dared to tease him about her, about having messed up yet another relationship; they had all been - in fact still were - very fond of her. Of all the women they had seen him with, Liz was the only one they approved of.

Breaking the connection of gazes, he took in her features; and contrary to his expectations, she didn't raise an eyebrow but closed her eyes and let him see her, the expression on her face vulnerable and open, as it had been earlier.

"I don't know, Liz," he finally answered her nearly forgotten question. "I'll have to call the rest. Together we'll think of something, but not now... not now..." He reached over and pulled her into his arms so she was leaning against his side.

 

Without hesitation, she had accepted the invitation of his embrace. Cuddled to him, she sighed in contentment. It didn't take long and she found herself lying down with her head in his lap, his fingers running through her hair, gently massaging her scalp.

"I can't believe you are here," she said, looking up into his face.

"Neither can I." He smiled down. "But I'm very glad I'm here - with you." Slowly, he bent down until his lips nearly touched hers with the last words.

"I'm not sure I can say the sa..." At this point, he cut her off with a gentle kiss.

"Stop thinking, Liz. For once in your life just feel and enjoy."

"Bishop..." Again he pressed his lips onto hers. She hadn't jumped up and thrown him out, yet; he considered that a good sign and couldn't help but test the boundaries - as usual.

"Bishop," she started once more, her hands shooting up, preventing him from sealing her lips again. "No, let me." She searched for his eyes with hers before repeating her earlier question, "What are we going to do, Bishop?" It was clear in her eyes that international conspiracies, federal secrets and double agents had nothing to do with her question.

The answer 'Not getting back together.' danced on the tip of his tongue but he swallowed it down fast; that would definitely be pushing it, and most likely getting him kicked out.

"Enjoying life."

"Can we really do that? Just enjoy life?"

"Right now, right here, yes."

"And later?"

"I hope so. I want to."

Liz simply nodded.

Bishop was astonished at hearing no protest falling from her lips. Maybe she didn't want to get back together with him, maybe she was willing to start anew, though, under different circumstances.

His lifestyle had never really bothered him until Liz had called off their relationship, stating that she didn't want to live like that anymore. Ever since, he had discovered he couldn't live like that anymore. To clear his name and build a new, honest, life with her by his side had been his goal, his drive, and now someone had used this dream against him. If they only would find a way out, find the solution of the puzzle and end this coup - that last one - as successful as most of their others.

A hand creeping under his shirt brought him out of his reverie.

"Liz?"

"Shhhh, don't think, just feel; remember?"

He couldn't suppress the smile that graced his lips at her obvious willingness to grant him what he had expected never to possess again - the privilege to touch her. As much as her brain was part of his attraction to her, just looking at her could turn him on.

He bestowed another kiss onto her mouth while loosening the knot of her satin belt.

She caressed his back and abdomen, moving upward in a rotary motion, pushing his shirt up as far as possible, then she indicated for him to take it off. Although it meant to take his hands off her, he complied happily.

Once he had gotten rid of the material and thrown it behind the couch, he continued his quest to free her of her clothes, albeit there not being much to begin with, bare her to his glance and touch.

How he longed to feel the soft skin of her bosom beneath his lips again. If women could be addictive, she definitely was his personal drug.

Slowly but steadily, he worked up the nightgown she wore underneath the robe, rediscovering the skin he once knew as well as his own. How he loved these spectacular legs. She used to tease him with them, about them when he spent hours just caressing and staring at them while she fell asleep in the evening on the couch. He loved it, though, a small price to pay for being the only man allowed to do more than ogling those limbs.

To stir up jealous expressions on other men's faces had been one of his favourite games: Every time he caught someone paying closer attention to Liz's legs than appropriate he had placed a possessive hand on her thigh or knee or even trailed a finger along their length. The looks of the men who mostly hadn't noticed him until then had usually been priceless. Liz had never approved of his display of ownership for she refused to belong to anybody but herself, but she hadn't disapproved either.

As captivating as her legs were, her fingers trailing along the waistband of his trousers, slipping beneath it, proved to be rather distracting.

"Liz." His voice held a warning tone when one of her hands grabbed his bare ass under his clothes.

"Yes?" She blinked innocently with a sweet smile on her lips.

"How shall I concentrate when you do that?"

"What happened to 'don't think, just feel'?"

He groaned.

"Besides, they still look the same as they did back then." To prove her point, she stretched her legs up in the air, providing him with a good view of them, pedalled slightly before putting them back down.

"True, and that's exactly what makes them so fascinating." He grasped one leg, brought the calf to his lips and showered it with kisses.

"So, you only want me for my legs."

Upon this accusation Bishop dropped the leg unceremoniously and captured her lips in a fierce kiss, his hands tugging at her robe and nightgown until they had bared her breasts to their ministrations. Her nipples were rolled between fingers; pinched and tweaked with the same frenzy as his tongue fucked her mouth.

Shortage of air in their lungs forced them to break the kiss at one point, both panting heavily.

"No," Bishop gasped, "they are just a nice bonus."

Still trying to catch her breath, Liz grinned at him. "Good." She sat up and shed her robe and nightgown while his hands and lips took advantage of the newly revealed skin of her back and mapped the territory.

As soon as the two items had joined his shirt on the other side of the couch, Liz wrapped her arms around his neck and hoisted herself onto his lap.

Unmoving, they sat, staring into each other’s eyes. A smile spread on his face, eyes twinkling with mirth.

"My beast, my beauty." Appreciatively, his hands roamed over her curves and back. She chuckled dryly, then kissed him languishingly.

Their moaning filled the air.

He kissed down her neck, she let her head fall back, offering him better access to her skin.

Greedily, her fingers ran through his hair, over his shoulders and chest.

Her hips bucked against his; through panties and pants, she rubbed herself shamelessly against him, stimulating both of them. His hands had slipped beneath the last piece of clothing she still wore, cupping her cheeks and encouraging her rhythm as she dry humped him.

Liz was becoming frustrated though. "You... are... wearing... too... much," she stated between kisses along his shoulder.

"So are you." To emphasize his point he let the waistband of her panties snap back.

She jumped off his lap and was out of her underwear in a second.

"Now..." She threw the item at him. "Strip."

She sat down on the other end of the couch, one foot on the couch, the other on the floor, hands folded in front of her sex.

Bishop stared at his temptress, shook his head at her raised eyebrow and started to remove his shoes under her carefully observing eyes. Once he was barefoot, he got up and opened his belt.

Meanwhile, Liz had moved her hands: one of them was now toying with a nipple, while the other was busy between her legs. His eyes widened at the wantonness she displayed.

"If you ever wanna join me you better keep going." She nodded toward his trousers, which had become really uncomfortable and restrictive during the last few moments, and his hands that had come to a hold in the middle of a motion.

Hastily, he opened the button of his jeans and pulled the zipper down.

As his pants slid down his legs, Liz plugged a finger into her wetness, pushing it in deeper the lower his trousers glided. When he stepped out of them, she shoved the digit in as far as possible, at the same time squeezing a nipple with the other hand. The moan, which escaped her lips, was followed by a groan from him.

His briefs outlined his hard-on, and felt more than a bit restraining to him. They definitely needed to go.

The woman in front of him seemed to agree with this thought if he interpreted her waggling eyebrows correctly. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband, causing the tip of her tongue to sneak out and lick her lips suggestively.

Due to her neatness and business like appearance he had nearly forgotten just how bold this woman could be - and how much he loved that side of her.

Losing his patience altogether when she trailed a finger along her vulva, he made short work of his briefs.

In a hurry, he bridged the distance between them with a few steps and sank to his knees in front of her.

He licked and sucked the fingers, which moments ago had pleased her - a preview of what was awaiting her. Her eyes followed the dance of tongue and lips until her fingers were abandoned in favour of her clitoris. As soon as he began to feast on the most intimate part of her body, her head sank back against the cushion, letting other senses take over.

Restless, he sucked at her, caressed her with his tongue and fingers, nipped at her pleasure centre and scratched it softly with his teeth, until she came hard under his ministrations.

Although his fingers didn't cease their movement within her, he lifted his head to watch her come undone, ride out the waves of pleasure that made her body tremble with lust - a sight to behold, one he never became tired of.

Slowly, he brought her down from the climax, evoking little aftershocks along the way before all tension left her form, and she seemed to melt into the bolster.

Bishop got up from the floor and sat down next to her on the couch, where he could reach more of her; a freedom he instantly used to suckle and gently bite her nipples that stood at attention and begged to be touched. Their owner who had been about to regain the ability of coherent thought and speech moaned out loud.

Bishop's lips travelled upward, leaving a wet trail along her collarbone while his hands massaged her thighs.

"Oh my God." were the first words to leave her mouth.

Bishop chuckled. "Needed that, didn't you?"

"You have no idea." Her mischievous smile was clouded by blissful satisfaction.

"Oh, I think I have a very good idea..."

"Hmm, seems that way," she agreed when she felt his erection being pressed against her leg. "Maybe we should do something about that." She swung a leg over his, settled down on his knees, facing him. Her eyes were fixed on the hardened male flesh between them as she began to knead it suavely. It wobbled under her touch, making her grin.

Varying the applied pressure, paying special attention to the head, she stimulated him to the point where his hands let go off her hips, which they had grabbed nearly forcefully, in order to still her fingers.

He was panting hard by now; his eyes, closed to submit sight to other senses just like she had done earlier, were opened again, clearly mirroring the lust and desire he felt.

Wordlessly, she let go off his penis, ran her hands up over his chest to his shoulders where she braced herself as she got to her knees and shifted forward. She positioned him and sank down with force, the friction extracting a moan from both of them.

For a moment or two they didn't move, merely rejoiced in the feeling of oneness, before his hands on her ass encouraged her to let the dance begin.

The motion started out lazy, languishingly - a counterpoint to the urgent need that reigned in their veins - however, she soon gave in to her - their - desire and picked up speed.

While his lips enjoyed the skin of her chest, he met each of her thrusts with one of his own. Higher and higher, they carried each other, losing themselves in the sensations of the other; never stopping, never slowing until two cries of ecstasy mingled in the air.

Spent, he sank back into the supportive furniture, taking her with him in an embrace.

Both pulses and breathings slowly returned to normal but their bodies didn't part yet, having missed the feeling of gentle holding, cuddling, which was an action far more intimate than the act itself.

Although still not getting up, Liz put some distance between their torsos to be able to look at his face. The smile she found there sure matched the one on her own face. He didn't meet her eyes but let his glance travel over her naked form, longing to memorize it for lonely nights of which he didn't know how many he would have to face in the future. When his expression turned sheepish, Liz followed his line of sight and looked down at herself, only to encounter a love bite above her left breast.

He and his urge to mark her - some things obviously never changed.

"Seems the décolleté blouse isn't an option the next few days." She gave him a short kiss, as he let out a deep breath and got up.

With swaying hips, she mad her way to the bathroom.

"In need of a shower?" She winked at him over her shoulder before disappearing out of his sight.

 

= End =


End file.
